POLING: A stranger knocks at Halloween
A TALE
Charlotte believed Halloween to be a thing of sin. Halloween was a left-over ritual of some long-gone pagan observation involving the night of the dead.
Celebrating such a thing as Halloween was decidedly un-Christian to Charlotte’s view.
Sure, not every child dressed as a demon, a witch, a ghost or a zombie. There were likely to be more boys dressed as Spider-Man than as a dead thing of Sam Hain. More girls dressed as princesses than hags casting ungodly spells.
But still, Oct. 31, the night of the dead, any observance, be they dressed as a cowboy or werewolf, was close enough to be considered a celebration of the devil, at least according to Charlotte’s view of Halloween.
Trick-or-Treat was a thing of evil. Parents might as well unleash their children in the dark woods and let them sing the praises of the devil. All’s about the same, Charlotte thought.
So, come Halloween, Charlotte was not like many of her fellow congregation, who either refused to answer the door or turned off the lights or were certain to be away from home on All Hallow’s Eve, or, heaven forbid, considered Halloween some harmless children’s fun and participated.
Instead, Charlotte stayed home. She answered her door. She then refused to hand out candy. She refused to invite the children inside. She turned a deaf ear to the young voices asking her for treats. Her glare dared any of them to pull a trick on her.
She gave the children nothing, save the cold hospitality of her stare and the meager warmth of her scowl. If she said anything to them at all, Charlotte would use the words, “heathen” and “hell” and often directed these words toward the parents, who would tell their children to come along to try another house.
All things considered, despite her religious disgust for the holiday, Charlotte was, for many of the trick-or-treaters, the scariest thing about Halloween. Her severe stare shivered more spines than any fake skeletons or women dressed like witches.
And so, Charlotte’s door would ring, or a knock would come, and she would refuse any hospitality.
One youngster knocked on the door, alone, Charlotte noticed, with no friends or siblings. No supervising parents. The boy wore a long robe and sandals. He held open a bag which Charlotte could see was empty.
He said, Trick or treat. Charlotte said, nothing.
The boy said, If I were hungry, would you let me eat? Charlotte said nothing.
He said, These sandals are old. Would you shoe my feet? Charlotte said nothing.
He said, I am tired. Will you offer me a bed or a sheet? Charlotte said nothing.
He said, I am alone. Can I sit a spell and speak? Charlotte said nothing.
He said, I am cold. Can you share some heat? Charlotte said, You are a heathen and most un-Christian thing.
And she slammed the door in the boy’s face.
Though the Trick-or-Treat bag was empty, the twine handles dug a little deeper into the wounds on His palms, as Jesus walked away from Charlotte’s closed door that Halloween night.
Dean Poling is an editor with The Valdosta Daily Times and editor of The Tifton Gazette.
